


2007

by glamgoths



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 00:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamgoths/pseuds/glamgoths
Summary: uhhh my oc Valentine (Istaqa) is a wee 19 year old and realizes he's gay for jacking off to 70's musicians...





	2007

2007

 

     Istaqa put on his coat, grabbing some cash and stuffing it into his pocket before walking out the door. After a while of walking, he eventually reached the local record store. Immediately he made his way down the isles of vinyls, having his mind set on a couple he was planning on purchasing. Slowly his fingertips traced the tabs of artist names as his eyes darted back and forth to find- ah there it was, David Bowie’s  _ Ziggy Stardust _ .

 

     Recently Istaqa was slowly falling out of his modern rock phase and slowly going back deeper and deeper in time with his music taste- including his whole look. He went from shaggy ‘emo’ hair to the start of the infamous seventies mullet. However at this point it just looked as if he hadn't cut his hair in months. As for his clothes, he went from wearing band t-shirts and jeans to exclusively getting his clothing from second hand stores.

     Picking out the record he wanted, Istaqa admired the album art for a second before looking for the next few he was on the search for. Once he reached the end of his search, he found himself in the vintage magazine section of the store. Scanning the covers, he picked out a few issues which were the  _ teen girl _ magazines of the time- the ones filled with posters and images of the  _ hot _ artist of the time such as Marc Bolan or Mick Ronson. Smirking at his finds, Istaqa grabbed two and added it to his list of purchases.

 

     Satisfied with his finds, Istaqa turned to head over to the register however the closer he got the more anxious he felt. He almost wanted to just turn around and put everything back on their respective shelves and head home. He looked down at his purchases and winced slightly. He didn't want the man at the counter to think of him like  _ that. _ Istaqa liked women and women only-- or so he and society convinced himself. He did find it quite strange that he never felt any connection with a girl before and he often found himself being more and more interested in  _ male  _ musicians. It got to the point where his room was covered in modern rock posters, most in which were geared towards  _ female _ fans. 

     Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and placed everything on the counter.  _ There is no need to be nervous over this. Older men collect this stuff all the time _ . Without a word he slid the cash over to the cashier, making sure to pull his hand back quickly and had his head dipped down so the man didn't see the chipped nail polish and crude makeup Istaqa was sporting.

 

     Istaqa hurried home, practically gushing in excitement at his finds. Luckily his parents weren’t home so he could put his music at max volume without getting constantly told to put it down. 

     Music was meant to be heard  _ loud-  _ Istaqa always argued. 

     Closing the door to his room, Istaqa then propped his chair against the doorknob as a little extra protection incase by any wild chance his parents were coming home early. With that he walked over to his record player and put on one of the records. Once he was satisfied he settled down, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and he spread out all the magazines he bought. At first he spent a couple of minutes reading some of the articles about the musicians- giggling at the nonsensical ‘groupie stories’ that were so painfully fake about making out with some  _ hot  _ musician after a concert. 

     The more he flipped through it, the more he realized how long he’d stay staring at some of the photos. Back in the seventies it was the norm for men to wear little to nothing on stage covered in makeup and glitter- their stage presence was so  _ free _ . Musicians weren’t afraid to break the norm when it came to their costuming and stage presence. In fact that made them even bigger due to how daring and unpredictable they were. 

     Nowadays it was quite rare to see a  _ male _ musician do such things.

 

     Istaqa stopped at the centerfold poster image, tracing his hand over the image while he stared at it. Closing his eyes for a second, he tuned out all the thoughts and worries he had at the moment and just channeled in the music that was playing. With the help of the magazine images and the sensual rock playing, somehow Istaqa’s thoughts concocted this man sitting before him- he couldn’t tell really  _ who  _ he was but his fashion sense was a mix of many glittery and glam seventies looks that his mind mashed together. Immediately he opened his eyes, feeling a bead of sweat fall down his temple down to his cheek. He took in a deep breath and frantically looked around the room and then back at the magazines displayed in front of him. 

     Taking in another breath, Istaqa started to skim through the magazine further until he fell upon an image of two male musicians kissing. He stopped and stared at it for the longest time, biting his lip at the thought of doing the  _ same.  _ The more he looked at the photo the more he tried to shake the thought from his mind but it refused to leave his mind. Exhaling a sigh, he leaned back, using his bed as back support as he just sat there and stared up at his ceiling. 

 

     Despite being scared- Istaqa closed his eyes again and there  _ he  _ was again. This time Istaqa didn’t open his eyes, he just let his thoughts play out instead. The figure in his mind approached him slowly, caressing the younger man’s cheek once he reached inches apart from Istaqa. With no words exchanged, the man pressed his lips against Istaqa’s softly. 

     Carefully, Istaqa raised his hand, pressing his fingers against his lips to poorly imitate the feeling of being kissed. Slowly he parted his lips and he stuck his tongue out slightly to lick his fingertips as a whimper escaped his mouth. 

     The figure caressed Istaqa’s cheeks and tilted the younger man’s head so he would have access to-- Istaqa let out a small moan, imagining the man’s lips tracing down his neck down to his shoulders. The more his mind flashed these thoughts, the stuffier he was feeling in his room. He rolled up his shirt, tying it at the side so that it reached his midriff. Once that was taken care of, Istaqa’s thoughts lead him back to that euphoric situation- this time the stranger moved his hands from his cheeks over to his chest and down to his hips. 

 

     Now Istaqa’s breaths were coming out in short huffs as he felt his pants were becoming a little too tight. The man in his thoughts reached a hand down to Istaqa’s crotch, palming him through his pants as he continued pressing his lips against his. Whimpering now, Istaqa took his hand and mimicked what the man was doing in his imagination. He leaned forward slightly as he let out a louder moan at the friction. It was soon getting to unbearable for him so he took the initiative to unbutton his pants and push them down to his mid thigh.

     The man re-appeared in his mind after he was free from his pants, still essentially doing what he was doing before. However he decided to move his hand up to the waistband of Istaqa’s undergarments and slipped his hand in, so Istaqa did the same in reality. His fingers wrapped delicately at the base of his shaft, taking in the sensation for a moment. His breath hitched as he slowly moved his hand up and down his length, using his free hand to run it through his hair. It didn't exactly take long for Istaqa to quicken the pace of his strokes, head lolling back against the bed as moans escaped his lips. 

     Istaqa’s hand remained buried in his hair as he quickly moved his other hand over his length. Considering how hot and bothered he was already, it didn't take long for him to reach his climax. Letting out a stuttered moan, Istaqa came into his hand, eyes almost rolling back as he did so. 

 

_     “Fuck.”  _ He whimpered, looking down at the mess he made on his hand. He then grabbed a tissue off his nightstand to wipe it off and tossed it on the floor. After he pulled up his jeans he just sat there quietly for a second. The room too was in dead silence now that the record he was playing had ended. 

     His entire realization of what he just  _ did _ hit him like a train. Immediately he cupped his hands over his mouth to muffle a sob that was escaping him. Tears streamed down his eyes but there weren't exactly angry, sad, or even happy tears- they were just  _ tears _ that didn't exactly have a name to them. 

     All Istaqa could think in the moment was how was he going to break the news.


End file.
